


Dabbling in Drabbling

by kkslover9



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-08 19:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkslover9/pseuds/kkslover9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of my drabbles. Latest: CRozil - Mesut goes to see Cristiano one last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Congratulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cristiano helps Morata celebrate his first cap.

“Morata.”

He would know that voice anywhere: Cristiano Ronaldo. Álvaro gulped and clutched his towel to his chest as if he would somehow be magically clothed by doing so. A blush rose to his face as Cristiano trapped him between his body and the wall, pressing against his bare back, naked. 

Cristiano slid a hand over his stomach and up to his chest, nibbling on his ear. He let out a moan, covering his mouth in surprise and blushed harder at the chuckle it earned him. The hand moved down to grab hold of his cock. He hadn’t realized how hard he was from practically nothing.

“So you really do like me,” Cristiano laughed.

Cristiano turned him around and pressed him against the wall then knelt in front of him. Álvaro gawked wide-eyed as the older man winked before taking him into his mouth. He bit his lip fighting back the moans that threatened to escape. 

Swirling his tongue around the head, Cristiano probed at the slit, tasting the leaking pre-cum. Álvaro groaned and arched himself up, pushing his cock further into the sucking mouth. He could feel Cristiano smirk as he pushed him back into the wall, using his hands to keep him under control. 

The sight of Cristiano Ronaldo kneeling down and sucking him eagerly was surreal. He wondered how many times he had been on his knees before he got this good; before he had perfected whatever trick he was now using to make him come so easily with a visible shudder.

He moaned again weakly as Cristiano swallowed his cum, licking his lips satisfied. Spotting the other man’s own erection, he reached out his hand only to have it swatted away. His surprised face was met with a grin before Cristiano leaned in close to his ear.

“Congratulations on your first game.”


	2. Feeling like a whore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mesut is a whore. Well, sort of.

Mesut groans as he rolls his hips, riding the cock inside him. Cristiano reaches around to stroke his cock causing him to shudder and arch his back.

“Is this how you were for Sergio and Gonzalo?” Cristiano whispers, trailing his tongue up the young German’s neck, “A slutty body and lewd sounds?”

His cheeks flush with embarrassment and he opens his mouth to protest but a deep moan drowns the words before they can leave his throat as the hand on his cock focuses on the head, rubbing and teasing the slit.

“I didn’t believe them when they told me how hot and tight you were.” Cristiano chuckles when Mesut whimpers as he moves his hand away. “I’m not going to touch you if you don’t move, you know.”

He whines but follows his orders and fucks himself on Cristiano’s cock, letting out a moan of relief when the stroking continues.

Groaning, Cristiano wraps his free hand around Mesut and pulls him closer, driving himself deeper as he comes.

“I guess this is the result of practice?” the Portuguese asks, smirking, “Did you whore yourself out like this in Germany?”

“I’m not-“ Mesut begins but he’s coming hard.

With a sigh, he lays back and rests his head into the crook of Cristiano’s neck with his eyes closed.

“I think I’m jealous that I’m not the only one that enjoys this,” Cristiano mutters, tracing a finger up and down Mesut’s chest.

He opened his mouth to correct him, to tell him that Sergio and Gonzalo had insisted on creating those lies (much to his protest) when they had noticed that Mesut liked Cristiano because they knew he wouldn’t be able to resist, but decided against it and smiled to himself. Maybe he would keep this jealous Cristiano a while longer even if he made him feel kind of like a whore.  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People say that Sergio Ramos and Sami Khedira are practically twins. Xabi thinks otherwise.

Everyone compares him to Sergio. They say look at how similar their hairstyles and facial structures are. But, Xabi doesn’t see it. Past those superficial similarities that everyone seems to be focused on, he’s sure there is nothing alike between Sami Khedira and Sergio Ramos. Firstly, Sami hasn’t indoctrinated into any groups that he didn’t even know he was becoming a part of. Secondly, Sami isn’t extroverted in that way that sometimes grinds on his nerves. Lastly, he knows—from experiences that he’s still unsure whether to be embarrassed by—that Sergio would not be able to fuck him in that slow and agonizing way that unravels him so easily or that perfectly rough way that has him coming without being touched.   
He’s sure. Sami is nothing like Sergio.


	4. This Hand I Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mesut goes to see Cristiano one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just me letting out my frustration over this Mesut transfer and the loss of another active OTP.

Mesut finds Cristiano outside, sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in the water. There’s a glass next to the baby monitor on Cristiano’s right and Mesut’s heart rate quickens. He doesn’t know if he could forgive himself, if he caused Cristiano to drink. He inhales deeply, hoping to gain some confidence, and takes off his sneakers and socks by the door. He grips the key in his hand tightly and goes over to Cristiano, who doesn’t even turn as Mesut sits down next to him, as close as he can without daring to touch him.

They sit in silence. Cristiano’s face is serious, jaw clenched as he stares across the pool. Mesut watches him, looking down into the pool when it becomes too much and goes over the bright lights under the water with his eyes. His mind recalls their argument over the phone. He recalls the anger in Cristiano’s voice and how much it hurt when Cristiano questioned his feelings for him. He knows Cristiano was only reacting to his own pain, but it still hurts, especially when he wonders if Cristiano is right. 

Mesut fidgets in the uncomfortable silence and decides to break it himself.

“I thought I should return this,” Mesut says, holding out the key in front of Cristiano.

Cristiano finally looks at him, expression a mixture of surprise and pain. “I,” he begins but stops and turns away from Mesut once again. “Keep it.”

Mesut nods and leaves the key out for another moment, in case Cristiano changes his mind, then closes his fist around. Cristiano’s breath was sweet and void of any alcohol. Mesut’s feels a knot unwind in his stomach.

Cristiano inhales and exhales loudly. “I’m sorry. For getting angry. I understand. I just—I don’t want you to leave. It’s selfish, but it hurts to think that you won’t be here with me.”

“It hurts for me too,” Mesut says, softly, “But there’s no alternative.”

“I know.”

They grow silent once more, but it’s no longer filled with the tension of earlier. Just an understanding that’s both comforting and saddening. Mesut is tired. He’s been tired for a while, but only now does he feel that he’s allowed to be. Cristiano seems to sense it. He stands and offers Mesut his hand.

“Let’s go inside.”

Mesut takes his feet out of the pool and allows Cristiano to help him up. His hand is cool, but Mesut grips it gratefully, still holding on after he’s standing. He looks up at Cristiano, whose face is more relaxed now, and smiles at him slightly. Cristiano returns it and doesn’t complain when Mesut doesn’t let go, even though they can’t move like this. Mesut just wants to take it in. This last time that he’ll see Cristiano for a long while. He knows he can probably do it better in the house, instead of in the low light of outside, but he tells himself it’s just in case. 

“Are we going to stand here all night? Because time is going and there’s a lot I still want to do to you,” Cristiano says.

The easy smile Cristiano gives him brings a smile to Mesut’s own face. He releases Cristiano’s hand reluctantly. He’ll miss this: the ability for Cristiano to make him smile so simply. He watches Cristiano pick up his glass and tuck the baby monitor under his arm. Cristiano holds out his free hand to Mesut.

“You seemed really interested in holding hands before,” Cristiano says, gesturing for Mesut to take his hand.

Mesut laughs and already feels a wave of nostalgia as he takes the hand and allows Cristiano to pull him inside.


End file.
